Fractured
by Amanda Hawthorn
Summary: The tears had long since run dry and the sorrow had slipped away. There was nothing but regret and loss flowing through her now, but she wasn't quite sure who or what she was actually grieving for… spoilers for 7x10


**Disclaimer: Burn Notice does not belong to me unfortunately**

**A/N: I would like to thank everyone for all of the reviews, PM's and for all of the favourite author and story adds. I wish I could reply personally but RL takes up most of my time these days. **

**Thanks as always to my wonderful friends Purdy's Pal, Jedi Skysinger and DaisyDay for making me smile every single day. Special thanks to JediSkysinger for giving this a BETA for me.**

**Lastly, thanks to Noelle and all the girls on twitter for your constant support**

**Spoilers for 7x10**

_**The tears had long since run dry and the sorrow had slipped away. There was nothing but regret and loss flowing through her now, but she wasn't quite sure who or what she was actually grieving for…**_

Fractured

The tears had long since run dry and the sorrow had slipped away. There was nothing but regret and loss flowing through her now, but she wasn't quite sure who or what she was actually grieving for…

Carlos had walked out of her house, taking a tiny piece of her with him. He had been her new start, her attempt at some kind of normal life. She had forced herself to love him, even though it had never been that all-encompassing love that she'd always had for Michael.

Pouring herself another glass of wine, Fiona lifted it to her lips without a second thought and downed the claret coloured liquid in one gulp. The warmth of the wine spread through her senses, dulling her pain for just a few seconds before she reached for the bottle again.

The cell phone that had lain dormant on her table suddenly sprang to life, the buzz of it vibrating across the table. Glancing down at it, she felt the familiar stirrings inside her heart when she read Michael's name flashing on the screen. But she had no desire or need to talk to him right now… maybe not ever. This whole mess her life had become had been because she couldn't let him go. Well, maybe it was time to let him go and pick up the pieces of what she had left.

Reaching for the phone, she rammed her thumb over the off button and felt some sense of deep satisfaction when the object suddenly silenced. She looked down at it for a few more moments, the numbness in her body slowly ebbing away to leave only anger in its place. She hated what she had become… She was a Glenanne! It was time she reminded a few people of what she was actually capable of.

Her fingers tightened around the object in her hand before she launched it aggressively across the room, her eyes following as it shattered against the wall. She had hoped that some of the ache in her body would have eased away with her anger, but instead it had only seemed to magnify it. There was no escape from this life that had closed in around her. This had never been her choice, none of it. She hated the CIA and everything they stood for. She hated that Michael still controlled her life and, right now, she hated him a little too.

He was travelling down a dark path that she couldn't travel down with him. For so many years, she had followed him wherever he went, willingly walking beside him during his burn notice. Now though, those fond memories were tarnished with the numbing reality that he would do anything to protect his cover, even if that meant sleeping with another woman to retain it.

Oh, she knew she had no right to feel bitter about it, not when she had forced herself to move on with another man. It was just the nagging questions that still ate away at her and the endless what ifs… If things had turned out differently and she had waited for him in those nine months after he left them, would he still have slept with Sonya? It was those doubts that ran around inside her head, time and time again, and it only seemed to cause her more pain. How many other times had he slept with someone else for the sake of his cover? Maybe she didn't really want to know after all.

Emptying the last of the claret liquid into her glass, she watched mesmerized as the last few drops dripped into the wine to create ripples when they hit the red surface. It was almost hypnotic, the undulating, slow movements lulling her senses as she lifted the empty bottle up to eye level and shook it to see if it was indeed empty. When she couldn't see anything but dregs, she slammed the empty bottle onto the table with a loud clunk and regarded the empty wine rack with as much annoyance as her half full glass.

Lifting her weary body from the chair, she took a look around the small apartment that she'd made into her home and drew in a shaky breath. She had only been lying to herself when she'd thought she could move on with her life… but there was no moving on. There was no life anymore, there was only surviving… and that's what she had been trying to do all this time.

Moving towards the large metal trunk that was situated beneath her breakfast bar, she slowly sank down onto her knees beside it. Lifting a hand, she fanned her fingers across the metal lid, tracing the edges until she came to the heavy lock that secured it. With a loving touch, she popped the lock open and lifted herself higher on her knees as she manoeuvred the heavy lid upwards.

The smell of gunpowder hit her senses, filling her with a warm familiarity. She was suddenly transported to the fields of home and, for a moment, she longed to see the scenes and the family she had left behind so long ago. She wanted normal, she wanted rain, Irish pubs and good old fashioned gun fights. But she had given all of those things up and discarded them when she'd fled from her homeland. She had to wonder now, after everything that had happened… Had it all been worth it?

Reaching into the trunk, she pulled out a sparkling P90, holding it with as much care as a new born baby. Sinking back down onto the floor, she ran her fingers along the barrel and closed her eyes. The feel of the cool metal beneath her fingertips filled her with a sense of calm that spread into her entire body. She needed this stability to keep her grounded and to remind herself of who she actually was.

The knock on her door startled her and she reacted on instinct. When the door slowly opened, she whirled around, high on her knees with the gun pointed unwavering at the man who had stepped into her home.

"Fi, you in here?" Sam called before he saw her. Stopping still, he took in her appearance and reached around to close the door behind him before he walked further into the room.

At the sight of her friend, Fiona gasped in a breath as she lowered her weapon.

"I could have shot you!"

"Yeah, maybe," Sam agreed with a wide grin as he dumped the six pack of beer onto her table. Turning back towards her, he sighed heavily when he recognized the same look of devastation in her eyes as he had so many months ago. "I spoke to Carlos..."

"I'm fine," she told him a little too quickly, as she turned to place the gun back into the trunk before she lowered the lid and replaced the lock. "It's not the first time I lost someone."

"Yeah, but—"

"I'll get over it," she told him nonchalantly. "I always do."

Sam watched her for a few moments as she got to her feet and came out of the kitchen before he pulled two beer bottles out of the pack and handed one to her. He knew the after effects of Michael Westen all too well. After all, he had been left behind to pick up the pieces every time Michael had left. But this time it wasn't just Michael, it was Carlos too.

Glancing across to the empty wine bottle, he shot her a half smile as he popped the cap off of his beer. Taking a long swig, he swallowed down the bitter liquid before he nodded towards the table.

"You started the party already?"

Despite the heaviness in her heart, Fiona couldn't help but smile as she followed his eyes. This man had become her closest friend, and she knew, if she needed to drown her sorrows with anyone, it would have always been him.

"You should have called first," she grinned before she closed her lips around the rim of the beer bottle and drank the cool liquid down in one go.

Sam chuckled to himself but sobered pretty quickly when he noticed the shattered remains of what used to be her phone.

"Yeah, well now I know why I couldn't get through!"

Fiona lowered the bottle and swiped the back of her hand across her lips before she shrugged her shoulders.

"Michael wanted to talk," she told him haughtily. "And I didn't!"

"Ah…" Sam nodded knowingly as he moved to her couch to sit down. He knew better than to get in the middle of the two of them and, after the last few years, he couldn't really blame her for wanting to have a normal life.

He watched her quietly when she slowly moved across the room to sit down onto the seat beside him, her fingers fiddling with the label on the bottle in her hands. They had adopted this same position so many times before; it had become their sort of ritual. Even before Jesse came along and it had been just the two of them, they had taken solace from a six pack of beer and each other's company.

"He left because of Michael…"

Her voice was so soft that he had to strain to hear her at first. He already knew the story and the reasons behind the break up, but it didn't make it any easier to see his friend looking so shattered. Reaching out he placed his hand on her arm, like he had so many times before, and waited for her to sink into the cushions beside him.

"He said he couldn't follow me," she told him brokenly as she slowly lowered her body into the cushions beside her friend. "He told me I'd always follow Michael…"

"Fi—"

"It's true," she told him, her words breaking through his. "We both know it…"

Sighing heavily, Sam shifted forward and glanced across at the remaining bottles of beer on the table. Taking out his phone, he pressed in a number and waited for her to settle against his shoulder before he listened to the voice at the other end.

"Jess," he spoke their friends name fondly as he handed Fiona his half full bottle and watched as she took it gratefully. "I need you to meet me at Fiona's place… and we'll need more beer…"

Fiona glanced up and offered him a watery smile as she handed him her empty bottle. She already felt some of the emptiness melting away as she listened to Sam's voice and the light banter she had become so accustomed to hearing. Laying her head back against the couch, she closed her eyes and allowed the weariness to overtake her body, knowing that with her friend by her side, she would survive this…

The End


End file.
